


Boy, That Escalated Quickly

by GoodGirlGoneBad



Category: Thor - All Media Types
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Comfort/Angst, F/M, Loki - Freeform, Loki Feels, Oral Sex, Porn With Plot, Public Sex, Semi-Public Sex, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-09
Updated: 2014-09-09
Packaged: 2018-02-16 17:29:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,026
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2278458
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GoodGirlGoneBad/pseuds/GoodGirlGoneBad
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sif turns to Loki to work out a mutually-beneficial arrangement but she is hesitant, concerned with appearances and her pride.  Loki hints there is more to his feelings for Sif.  Then Sif turns into the Hulk and smashes things.  (Just kidding about that last part.)   I do not own these characters.  (Duh, I guess?)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Boy, That Escalated Quickly

Sif couldn't think of a reason why he might reject her plan. It was a bit unorthodox but rather brilliant in its simplicity. A warrior must be prepared to wake up in Valhalla at any moment so the idea of bonding with anyone in domestic bliss and having a family was a fantasy she wouldn't entertain. A simple exchange of physical pleasure was all she wanted. She was learning, though, that manly boasts don't necessarily transfer into bedroom skill with one too many failed lovers falling short of delivering. He shared her disdain for sentiment so it should be perfect. She wanted Loki. 

Although not from his own words, rumors circulated for eons that he possessed exceptional prowess but usually Sif ignored such whispering. Loki was making that difficult. She found herself stealing glances at him whenever she thought he wasn't looking in her direction. Somehow he found ways to torment her, licking his lips or slyly turning his face just so for the perfect angle as her eyes turned toward him, not once meeting her gaze but smirking just enough to make her wonder if he could read her mind. Gods, he was beautiful. 

When she returns to the sanctuary of her rooms that evening, she pours a glass of wine, which quickly becomes two, and then three. She sits inebriated on the corner of her bed while glancing out through the balcony window with tears stinging her eyes. How could something so simple be so difficult? She screams and throws her empty glass toward the window, then winces when she hears it shatter against the wall. She collapses on her back, letting her hand travel down. Sif closes her eyes, imagining Loki's lips on her skin and his fingers at work. She leans back on one elbow, letting her head drop back as her fingers delve inside her moistened folds. After only a few minutes she orgasms, crying out "Loki!" as the waves resonate and subside. Movement in the corner of her eye catches her attention. She bolts upright but sees nothing that should have startled her. She rolls over into sleep, whispering his name once more. The rest of the night is fitful with Sif in and out of sleep while weighing the pros and cons of her scheme. She rises the next morning determined to learn before nightfall if it is a workable solution.

Loki isn't difficult to find when one wants to. He could sense her presence trailing him returning from the library but she isn't trying to hide it. He leads her down a quiet hall before vaporizing into thin air, only to appear behind her close enough for his breath to dance on her ear. "Is there something I can assist you with, Sif?" She whirls around and grasps his shoulders, pulling him down to meet her. "I need... " she pants through mashed lips, trying to force her tongue past his. She clumsily clasps his hand and places it against her breast. He is confusingly unreadable, doing nothing to advance their interaction. "Please, I want..." There is a small break in his standoff as he draws her toward him. "Say it, Sif. What do you need?" His voice is a sharp whisper. As their eyes meet, her desire gives way to insecurity. Maybe he is only toying with her. She shoves him away. "This was a mistake, wasn't it?" She turns on her heel and leaves him standing there. Instead of fleeing or marching away indignantly, she moves as if the wind had been knocked from her chest. Her pride stings in a way that only large quantities of mead can dull. "Was he going to make me beg? Never!" she hisses under her breath.

She heads for the banquet hall, too preoccupied by her embarrassment to pay much attention to the people around her. As she's walking by a row of tables, the ambassador of Vanaheim grabs her in his drunken state, wraps one arm around her waist to pull her across his lap, and paws at her hair as though she is some tavern wench to the cheers of his compatriots. He is unaware that he is gripping a combatant as formidable as any man in this room. Instead of drawing blood for the public insult, Sif chooses diplomacy and lets the rather fat, alcohol-wreaking ambassador comprehend his terrible mistake. The room grows silent. She extricates herself from his grip with an arm twist and a cold sneer. "You will let me go, sir, before I separate you from your tiny cock and shriveled balls with my bare hands!" 

Unbeknownst to Sif, Loki had quietly followed Sif into the hall and witnesses her rejection of the abhorrent guest's mead-fueled advances with little difficulty in finding the exact words to express her thoughts. Anger - that is what loosens her tongue. After the altercation had settled, Sif only wants to escape with what little shreds of her dignity remain intact. She turns to take her leave and notices Loki materialize beside her. She gives him a quick lightning-bolt of a warning glare, in no mood for further humiliation today. Before she can utter a syllable, Loki's hand finds hers and they instantly vanish. 

They are on the other side of the wall with massive marble columns a few yards away providing enough cover to ensure their privacy in a recessed niche from the comings and goings of the banquet hall that shared a wall with their present location. Sif is aching from his damnable lips that skate along her ear and down her neck, feeling the warmth of his breath raise her pulse. She lets a sigh escape her lips. Loki suddenly steps back, almost recoiling as though he has been slapped. "You're ashamed to be seen with me! This is some kind of game to you!" he barks. Sif shudders from the sudden loss of warmth and weight that had her pinned against the wall only a few seconds ago in this darkened corridor. Sif can't tell if it is a question or an accusation but she is caught off guard by this sudden display of temper. 

"Of course not! Lies are not my arena, Silvertongue. I need physical release but I do not feel the need to boast about my encounters or put myself on display! I don't see you with anyone! Surely you can understand the need for discretion if we can reach an agreement." She tries to suppress her alarm before her words escalate but she knows this was her doing. Loki was not one to let a perceived slight go unchallenged. Sif closes the gap between them and places her hands on his chest, hoping to undo any unintentional offense and salvage her plan yet.

"If others knew I was ... cavorting with a prince, I would lose their respect. Everything I have worked for will only look like favors given to me." It sounds reasonable to Sif but Loki isn't having it. "You honor me with your concern for the supposed emptiness of my bed." The anger in his voice triggers Sif's own. "If you're looking for a fight, you will be happy to remember I am well-trained for the task!" Her shout softens to a whisper as she feels there is nothing left to lose at this point. "I was thinking about the emptiness of my bed." Revealing the first crack in her facade, she casts her eyes downward, feeling something close to panic at the ridiculousness of tears stinging her eyes yet again. "What would you have me do, my prince? I have already made a fool of myself and exceeded the bounds of propriety by even suggesting we might..." Sif is no shrinking violet but even now she cannot finish her sentence under Loki's scrutiny. The only thing more humiliating than giving in to her impulse to suggest her offer is the possibility that Loki will reject her with mockery and ridicule. Her imagination runs wild for a moment. He will probably have a good laugh at this weakened warrior later who is more afraid of sex and gossip than of violence on the battlefield. She feels slightly nauseous until her gaze returns to his face and she sees the arch of his eyebrow and that devilishly charming smile. 

He studies her face for a moment, noting the turmoil behind her eyes. "Fear not, proud Sif. I've had my fun watching you squirm but there is no joy seeing you in pain. If you seek pleasure, you must first let go of worrying about what others may think." Sif watches with astonishment as Loki's features change to reveal something deeper. His longing for her compels his limber frame to take the space it formerly occupied and she is pressed back against the wall with Loki towering over her, using just enough force to pin her arms above her head. "I saw you last night. Tell me, shield-maiden, exactly what do you want?" It is a bold move that siphons the air from her lungs.

Sif is pressed against Loki's body and she finally relinquishes her pride. "I must have your cock inside me," she whispers while drawing her leg up along Loki's. His breath so close to hers stirs a low fire in Sif's abdomen. His tone immediately softens. "My Lady, is that all? I must have all of you." Lightning flashes in Loki's eyes. "As far as propriety goes, we're about to leave that far behind." A relieved moan escapes Sif as Loki lowers her wrists to gather her in his arms, clutching her to his chest. She wraps her arms around his neck, reeling from his feather-soft kiss. He expertly snakes his tongue past acquiescing lips, probing their depth with her hushed sighs in reply. Loki grasps her hips and holds her close enough for her to detect his encased erection straining against his clothing. Sif wants him but she feels a pang of fright and pulls back. "Here, outside the banquet hall? We'll be seen!"

Despite her protest, Sif doesn't care if a marauding army invades the corridor as Loki's fingers make symbols in the air with a trail of sparks following. "Heimdall himself couldn't see us now." A reflective veil surrounds them, mirroring the light to shield their whereabouts. Loki pushes the fabric back from Sif's shoulders and her blue gown falls to the floor in a heap. She is strong and battle-tested but still shapely and feminine, tanned from training fields out in the sun except for her covered dove-white breasts which strain against the corset she is barely in. Undeterred by her constriction, she manages to pull Loki's tunic over his head in one nimble move before standing briefly rooted to the floor. They pause just long enough to genuinely admire the other's form. He is merely shirtless but she can't help staring at his stunning physique. He is svelte and sinuously muscular, with sleek black hair that flowed to his shoulders. His narrow abdomen was just as muscled as any warrior's but his pale skin and green eyes have no equal among the Aesir. Sif wonders how she had never really looked at him before. Suddenly there is a mad scramble to divest each other of the leather and fabric barriers remaining that kept them separated. 

Loki gathers her in his arms again with nothing in between them. Sif takes his hand in hers and guides two of his fingers into her mouth. She sucks and laughs, running her tongue over the length of his index and middle fingers. "I know what to do with those!" Loki growls with a heated grin that both thrills and unnerves her. He is positively pantherine in his ability to purr one minute and then snarl the next but she is enjoying the unpredictability of it all. He removes his fingers from her lips and carefully squeezes the pink bud of her nipple to aching firmness before lowering his head and performing the same service with his lips around her areola, flicking and rubbing her silken breasts until audible gasps are induced. Loki lowers to his knees and with one hand lets his fingers travel to her now drenched core, skirting her folds and brushing lightly against her clitoris while supporting her with the other hand, trailing kisses down her abdomen until his lips are at her center. Sif rolls her head back against the wall when Loki's tongue runs the length of her labia and then returns to plunge inside. She is still standing but it doesn't take long before her chest is heaving and her legs feel unsteady. Loki then lowers Sif to the floor on top of her discarded gown. Her face is flushed, her legs are spread, and her half-lidded eyes beg for more. Loki trails slow kisses down her prone body, crawling to position his face between her thighs.

He presses his tongue against her folds and explores every crevice, occasionally using his lips to lightly suck her most sensitive bundle of nerves. She grips his hair and arches her back as Loki prepares her opening. He enters two moistened fingers into her sex and slowly massages her inner walls while swirling his tongue over her clitoris in rhythm, every now and then moving back to lap at her flowing nectar. Fearing that she will leave bald patches on Loki's scalp, she eases up on his hair. The angle of his fingertips stroking against sections of her feminine walls reduces her to incoherent grunting. Sif lifts her hips to meet each oscillation of his fingers, grinding against the divine pressure Loki's stroking provides. She glances downwards, expecting to see the top of his head but she meets his eyes instead. He is now inspecting her face as moans and gasps escape in a primal response to his technique. Loki prowls up her body, leaving his fingers to continue where they are, and captures her lips again. Her release washes over her while she tightens around Loki's fingers, unable to mute her pleasure.

Recovering from her high, Sif feels a little self-conscious about the spectacle she made of herself. She had been selfish, thinking only about her own pleasure but she doesn't want this to be a one-sided event. Loki is surprised when Sif quickly positions to her hands and knees, pushing him onto his back. She lifts his engorged member to her lips and then realizes her miscalculation. This insufferable sorcerer is impressively endowed. What she wants to do now is going to take some effort. She licks the full length of his shaft and moistens his girth before sinking her lips as far down his length as she can take, barely halfway. She lightly hums, wondering if the slight vibration caused by her voice adds anything to this activity. Loki's hand on the back of her head is her answer. She works her lips up and down, each time trying to take just a little more into her mouth, using her hands to stroke what her lips cannot until she is at the base and he presses into her throat. "Gods help me, Sif!" Loki groans.

Not wanting to plow her into the stone slab floor, Loki separates himself from her and shifts to sit upright, leaning back against the alcove's wall for support as he edges away from his impending climax. He coaxes Sif to straddle his hips facing him and his length finds her core without any assistance needed from hands for alignment. Her hair falls around them as she prepares for what is to come next. Her breasts are pressed against his chest when he pistons up into her with his searching hands in her cascade of hair. She stretches to accommodate his size while he gently tastes her lips again. Her breath flutters in her chest from the softness of his touch which is an abrupt departure from the animalistic intensity that got them to this point. The way he moves his hips is erotic in ways she couldn't have dreamed and what begins tentatively becomes more urgent. Her heat builds until she is without inhibition, rocking her hips to meet Loki's thrusts and reveling in the sensation of Loki's lips against her own. 

He breaks the kiss to growl into her ear. "Is this what you want, Sif?" She clasps his face in her hands and finds the confidence to search his eyes, not caring if he can see into her soul. If she didn't know him better, she'd swear there was vulnerability there. "Yes, please don't stop! You feel so good, Loki!" His embrace is far more intimate than the fevered rutting she thought she could settle for. As if reading her mind, Loki whispers in her ear again. "Anyone can fuck but who can give you this?" A vortex of emotions flood in, placing her on the verge of tears. Loki's unrestrained desire makes her arch and drop her head back. His lips find her breasts again, stroking her stiffened nipples until the clench of her next climax overwhelms her senses. "Loki!" She vaults forward and throws her arms around his neck, sending him over the edge. He clutches Sif tighter and spasms inside her gripping genitalia, buffering his shout against her throat.

Inside the banquet hall, Thor and the Warriors Three are sitting at a table closest to the east wall, trading uncomfortable glances. "Do you think someone should tell those two to be more discreet? They might as well be on the next table over!" Volstagg nearly chokes on his feast for laughing, pounding the table with his heavy fist after a particularly loud wail from Sif is heard from the other side of the wall. "I think they're heading into round two!" Hogan playfully tries to plug his ears with his fingers. Fandral looks at Thor who can only shake his head. Thor waves one hand and shrugs. "I doubt Lady Sif would knowingly go along with being broadcast in such a manner but they seem to be getting along. I would wager this is Loki's way of claiming her as his."


End file.
